


The Hero

by kissmelikeapirate



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Lieutenant Killian Jones, Princess Emma Swan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 15:18:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4440899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissmelikeapirate/pseuds/kissmelikeapirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A princess. A lieutenant. A storm. A hero.<br/>Will honour or love rule the day?<br/>(Lieutenant Duckling fic slightly inspired by While You Were Sleeping).</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hero

_She’d dreamed of the sea as a child. She could see it from her bedroom, the tempting blue vista that spread out in the distance as a tantalising promise of adventure on distant shores._

_Yet this water was grey, not blue. The rippled ocean surface, churning and frothing like a mad bull, tossing and turning…_

_And she was sinking._

_Heavy skirts dragging her down._

_Drowning. Drowning…_

_///_

_Blue again now. Was it the sea? The sky?_

_No. A pair of fair eyes, crossed with concern._

_“Emma!”_

_And everything was black._

///

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

“Of course,” Killian replied, “It was my first time at court.”

A frown crossed Emma’s face. “Well, that would make such an occasion memorable…” she mumbled. Her fingers dug into the smooth wood of the gunwale. 

The Jewel of the Realm was the newly christened flagship of her father’s navy. The paint was still fresh, the sails as white as clouds. A ship to be proud of, for sure.

She spun around so the port was at her back.

“Your highness,” Killian began, full of regret for his misstep.

_How could he ever forget the day he saw the most beautiful woman in the world._

“Emma,” she sighed, “You must call me Emma. How many times do I have to tell you?”

Frustration welled in her gut.

“As many as you wish, Your Highness.”

So formal. So upright and good and loyal. How she wished one day to see the young Lieutenant more at ease; less starched white breeches and more unrestrained and _passionate_.

“Killian, we are friends are we not?” she asked, watching carefully as the wind blew against the hair that fell over his forehead. The autumnal weather was rising.

He hesitated, folding his arms behind his back, his lips twitching a few times.

“Of course. As much friends as a princess and a mere naval man may be.”

“As I thought,” she whispered, turning her back to the shore and the disappearing coastline of Misthaven.

///

He was a fool.

She could never be his and torturing himself by being so close to her was unwise and dangerous.

He could have requested leave for this, the first short trip of the Jewel. Captain Wise was to retire soon and his brother, Liam, was one of the candidates to replace him. He would have given him the time ashore, had he asked.

But no he hadn’t because he relished every chance to be near her.

The ship was to make the journey to nearby kingdom of Arendelle; a royal visit for the king, queen and their only daughter. The daughter with whom he had been desperately in love with for the past five years. Ever since he met eyes with her across a crowded banquet hall - a feast to celebrate a victory that their ship had been a crucial part of.

A friendship of a sort had brewed over the following years. He had watched her blossom from a pretty teenager to a beautiful woman with grace and poise, but a fiery gleam in her eyes that had tugged at his heart (and his imagination). So he'd sought her out, as often as would seem proper.

Each dance they shared had placed a further pin of love for her in the hopeless cushion of his heart. Every afternoon he chanced upon her in the royal gardens he fell a little more in love with her wit and her laugh (and her sea green eyes).

_Aye_ , he was fool.

///

Twenty one in three weeks. Twenty one and ready to marry.

It was too soon. She wanted more time. More time to-

Leaping from her bed, she pulled on her wrapper and marched up to the deck. As she reached the hatch she could hear the rain beginning to patter against it. Not caring, she opened it, dashing onto the deck, slick as it was with rainwater.

The moon was full and the sea was dark. Black as ink, swirling like the disturbed depths of a waterfall.

How she wished for the freedom of the sea. For the freedom of choice. For with free will she knew whom she would choose to court. The man who had filled her mind since she was a silly sixteen year old allowed to attend her first courtly ball.

Her wrapper was becoming damp and she hugged it tighter against her shoulders. With easy steps she made her way to the hull, gasping in moist breaths of cool night air. Her feet slid a little on the polished wood.

“Your highness?”

The wind was high and loud now. Barely she heard the voice, but she knew who it was. Had he sought her out? Had he-

Turning quickly in it’s direction, she lost her footing. Sliding, slipping, arms reeling-

Then she felt the gunwale jab into her hip-

And then she was tumbling… Down, down, down…

///

“Is she breathing?”

“Aye Liam, she is-“

One hand grabbing the rough, hemp rope, the other around her waist, Killian gasped for breath. His legs were leaden with the effort of bringing the two to the surface. Her head was slung against his shoulder; she was unconscious but he could see the small rise of her chest as she inhaled.

A minute later and the two tumbled on to the deck - Liam taking the princess in his arms, laying her gently to the floor.

“What’s going on here? I heard cries-“ the two officers turned to see Kind David bounding across the deck towards them, pausing only when he saw the figure lying before them. “Emma? What happened-“

The king was by his daughter’s side in a second, brushing back the damp hair from her forehead, muttering her name as she blinked slowly.

“She fell overboard, your highness, I can only presume she was seeking some air-“ Killian began, sinking to his knee by his commander’s side. He glanced quickly at his brother who had moved away to fetch a blanket from the chest that sat beneath the ship’s wheel. 

The decision was instant.

“And Liam - Liam dove in and saved her.”

It was a good enough rouse. All three were soaked, may it be from the sea or the rain. He saw his brother’s eyes widen as he returned with the blanket, his mouth opening briefly before the king placed his hand on his shoulder.

“How ever am I to repay you?”

///

“Killian, what did you do - why lie?”

Killian slammed the door of his brother’s small cabin (the one which he shared, unofficially).

“Don’t you see, brother?”

Liam shook his head, his hands moving to undo his sodden shirt.

“You saved a princess, you are a hero-“

“You are the hero brother,” Liam grumbled, tugging against the wet fabric. 

Ignoring the Commander, he continued, “A hero will deserve a reward. Liam - this is the perfect way to ensure your promotion to captain and the seat of this vessel. You saved a royal princess, how could the king offer it to any other?”

Liam eyes his brother, letting out a deep sigh as he sank to sit on his bunk. “I don’t like it Killian. It’s not truthful.”

“Tis but a white lie, brother. On that will secure both our futures.”

A few terse moments past, the brothers locked eye to eye, the air heavy and thick-

“I’d rather not my future be based on an untruth, brother. But the lie is done now… to recant it would make matters worse.”

The elder Jones kicked off his boots.

Killian felt uneasy and perhaps more than a little sad that Emma would never know who her true saviour was.

But he brushed that thought aside and tried to find solace in the face that she was safe.

///

_The sound of her cabin door opening had roused him from his position, perched on a stool outside the royal quarters. A job he had volunteered for._

_Following her on deck, he watched the wind whip her hair about her body, the rain saturated her shift and wrapper, her bare feet sloshing against the puddles that formed on the bare planks._

_What was she doing?_

“Your highness?” _he called._

_She turned. And she was slipping and falling and then, she was gone._

“No,” _he cried his heart clenching._ “Emma, no!”

///

Oh she hated fuss. Hated it.

Thankfully once her mother had checked over every inch of her and her father had first scolded, and then embraced her, the attentions from her incident became less invasive.

She remembered little, but waking on the ship’s deck, drenched and cold. Faded dreams swirling in her head.

The trip was cancelled and they began the return to Misthaven.

Of course, she felt a little guilty. She had promised her parents a thousand times that all was fine. But she was there only child, their only heir. And she understood that upon her shoulders stood the fate of the entire kingdom and should harm come to her the state would be considerably weakened.

This knowledge did not sit well with her, but her duty had been clear since the day of her birth.

Protect the kingdom. Be a good ruler. Marry well. Continue the bloodline.

Responsibility.

Honour.

Her future.

///

He didn’t see her again until they docked. And then it was merely a fleeting glance and shared smile (though formal on his part) as she was bundled into a carriage and back to the castle.

Indeed he was relieved she was safe. But at the same time he knew it may be some time before he would see her again. And perhaps with little chance of the intimate conversation they could share aboard a ship.

Aye, he was a fool.

A fool for her indeed.

///

It had been two weeks since the accident. Two weeks of bedrest and fussing and endless meals of hot soup.

In the end, she had to almost fight her lady in waiting to allow her to put on proper clothing and be allowed to leave her chambers.

And just in time for yet another formal occasion. This time, it was the bestowing of promotions upon members of the Navy. A once yearly occasion, which this year she knew would decide the new captain of the Jewel.

“Emma?” her father called after dinner. It was the evening before the ceremony and he was sat behind his desk, the surface piled high with papers and pots of ink.

Stepping into his office, she smiled, “Busy, father?”

He smiled wryly, “So many promotions to sign. The job of a king is never done.”

She smiled back as he tapped his hand on the small stool beside him. “Come, sit.”

Doing as she was asked, she padded over the carpet covered floor, sitting and quietly watching him for a moment as he signed a piece of parchment with a flourish.

He placed the quill back in the nearest ink pot and turned to give her a smile.

“My darling, how are you?”

“Fine father, as I have told you many times.”

He reached forward, caressing her cheek. “I’ll never stop worrying about you.” He twisted in his arm chair to she could see his face, his jaw still sharp and strong though he was approaching his fifth decade. “And on that note, I have a question to ask of you. As you know your birthday is soon…”

“Yes,” she sighed, _three more weeks._

“And tradition dictates your betrothal be announced at your birthday ball.”

She shifted a little uncomfortably in her chair. “I know.”

“Well, your mother and I have been thinking. And we know well enough that you need a strong man by your side. A noble man. A good man.”

“Father-“

“And I believe I have found just the man.”

“You do?” she asked, heart pounding.

“Commander Jones - well, the soon to be Captain Jones.”

_Liam? Killian’s brother-_

She sucked in a deep breath.

“He’s strong and kind natured and a hero - he saved you from those waters Emma.”

“But - but I don’t love him…” she muttered, confused and scared and unsure all at once.

King David placed a hand on hers as it lay in her lap.

“I know my darling, and I will not force the betrothal. But I believe you could come to care for each other. And it is a good match.”

Emma sat silently, her thumbs twitching.

_Marry Liam?_

“May I think about it?”

“Of course my love,” her father sighed, pressing a kiss against her forehead, “Take as long as you need.

Legs shaking, heart pounding Emma alighted and left the room.

///

He wandered the gardens aimlessly that afternoon. His one afternoon free of duties and he spent it scouring the small paths of the castle grounds, hoping, foolishly, that he may stumble across her as he had so many times before.

And there she was, sitting in the mottled light beneath an apple tree; a book in hand and a look of concentration on her face.

“Your hi-“ he began, until she looked up and he saw something strange in her eyes. Something he had not seen before, yet could not name. “ _Emma,”_ he finished, with a bow.

A small smile blossomed on her lips, though it faded quickly and was replaced by a frown.

“Sit?” she asked quietly, her hand gesturing to the small patch of blanket beside her.

He hadn’t seen her since the promotion ceremony and then merely across the room. They had not shared such close quarters since the indecent aboard the Jewel.

“How are you? Fully recovered?”

Placing her book down, she sighed and rolled her eyes. “You are perhaps the millionth person to ask me just today.

“Sorry,” he smiled, blushing to the tips of his ears. Stubborn Emma Nolan, Crown Princess of Misthaven hated to be though of as weak and helpless.

“It’s fine,” she sighed again, her eyes focusing off in the distance in a way that worried him.

“Your- _Emma -“_ he caught himself, as her eyes widened, “May I be so bold as to ask if something troubles you?”

Biting her lip, she brought her feet up under her skirts, resting on her knees so she was about the same height as him as they sat.

“I have news,” she replied sombrely.

“Aye?”

Emma nodded. “My birthday approaches, you know-“

“I do,” he quietly interjected.

“And you know of tradition?”

He did. In fact, it was a matter he had often pondered, torturing himself with postulation about which privileged fool would be lucky enough to take her hand.

“Yes.”

“Well father has made a proposition to me. It is a strong one, I think… A good match as mother would say…”

His heart began to race with heavy thudding motions like a drum. 

“And? You have agreed…?”

The words hung in the air.

“It’s-It’s Captain Jones. Liam. Your brother.”

For a second he was dumbstruck. A high-pitched buzzing erupted in his ears as his blood ran cold.

“And…” he whispered, not daring to look her in the eye lest he reveal his feelings in a glance.

She shrugged. “I said I would consider it.”

Killian swallowed hard.

Could he cope with that? His brother marrying his secret love? The woman whom he would go to the grave cherishing-

He cleared his throat. “My brother- My brother is a good man. He will make a fine husband.”

He chanced a glance in her direction. Her expression was guarded. “I have no doubt of that. But-“

A throng of hope ran through him. “Yes?”

Emma threaded her fingers together in her lap. “Killian - can you think of any reason why I shouldn’t marry your brother?”

Her eyes searched his face, eye to eye to lips…

Duty. Honour. Sacrifice. 

They were the tenets of his life. Those he swore to live by as an officer. To put the goodwill of others before his own.

“No,” he lied, looking away from her lest she see his untruth.

Quietly she replied. “That’s what I thought.”

///

Her mother cried. Her father beamed with happiness.

Liam was summoned to her father’s chambers where she paced anxiously outside.

_She’d given him the chance and he hadn’t wanted her._

Wringing her hands, she waited.

_Foolish, girlish fancies must lie in the past. She must think of her duty now. Liam was a decent man and a Captain no less._

She told herself these things a thousand times as she awaited her father to call her into the room.

///

“A month, brother?” Killian cried when Liam came to him with the news. He had feigned surprise at the news of the engagement, but the proposed date for the betrothal had thrown him.

“Aye. The king wishes it to be concluded before the Jewel engages on her first tour and it will be easier to combine it with the princesses birthday celebrations.”

Killian flinched. “And how do you feel about this?”

Liam smiled softly. “Lady Emma is a fine woman, you have told me yourself so many times.” He gave Killian a curious look, as if waiting for some kind of response. 

Killian nodded.

“And who am I to deny my King?”

“Do you love her?” Killian asked, trying to hide the way his voice broke.

“I will learn to, as I am sure she will too.”

Killian’s heart clenched, so hard he though surely Liam must have been able to hear it begin to break.  
///

Invitations and dress fittings and menus and flowers and-

_She wanted to scream._

Four weeks. Four weeks! Barely enough time to become acquainted with a suitor, never mind marry him.

As it was, they had but a handful of chaperoned dinners. Ones where she found herself staring into the blue eyes that he shared with his brother, secretly imagining that it was _he_ who she dined with, _he_ that she would marry-

_Stop,_ she told herself. _Stop this madness._

One afternoon, but a week before the nuptials, she sat in the library surrounded by swatches of material from which to choose from for her honeymoon closet. A week’s worth of new gowns were being made up for the parties that would follow their union. Every noble within the kingdom wished to welcome them into their homes.

She was tired just thinking about it.

A soft knocking broke her thoughts.

“Enter-“

Killian swept into the room in a blaze of blue and white uniform, pausing stiffly by the door and bowing, “Milady.”

“Killian,” she beamed, before catching herself and settling her face into a more sedate expression. “Lieutenant Jones,” she nodded.

“I was hoping to catch you. I must leave the city tonight-“

Emma frowned, “You’ll be back for the wedding, though?”

“Yes,” he nodded, “I am to be Liam’s best man.”

An awkward silence passed. Killian tugged at his cravat.

“Anyway, I just wished to give you something before I left.”

Taking a few steps forward, he placed a simple box on the table beside her. “An early wedding gift,” he explained.

Curious, she untied the blue ribbon that wound around the wooden box, gently laying it aside as she pulled the cover away. Inside, in a bed of deep, navy-blue silk sat the most beautiful spyglass she had ever seen. Ebony black with polished brass fixings. It was as handsome an instrument that there could possibly be.

“Killian, this is…” lost for words, she simply looked up and smiled.

“I know you have a yearning for the ocean. I though perhaps with this you could keep watch from your chambers. For your husband’s return once he returns to sea.”

He straightened his shoulders. Emma looked from him, to the spyglass and then back again.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

Nodding gently, he made to leave-

“Killian,” she called out and he paused. “Did you realise the next time we meet we will be brother and sister?”

“I had thought of that, your highness,” he admitted.

The two looked at each other, both unwilling to look away. Her heart battled her head - willing it to say something. To beg him not to leave, to reveal her true feelings. Now was her last chance.

The words stuck in her throat. Her stomach clenched-

She couldn’t. She couldn’t do it.

Her word had been given and she could not betray that.

Even-

Even for love.

“Goodbye,” he whispered, bowing low and formal before he left the room.

A small crack appeared in her heart. One she feared for which there was no remedy.

///

Soft pink watered silk was gathered in flounces and ripples about her waist and bosom. So much material that she feared if she stumbled she may not be able to stand again without much assistance.

Her ladies primped and preened - combing her hair and powdering her cheeks. Feigning happiness, she wore a small smile as they dressed her.

Today was her wedding day. She should be happy, she thought.

On her dressing table sat the spyglass Killian had given her almost seven days earlier. Etched on her memory was the last time she had seen him and the last glance he had given her.

Was she a fool to still dream of him when she was to marry his brother? Perhaps, she told herself. But she had given him ample chance to reveal any feelings for her he may harbour. Whatever she saw, she must be imagining.

A palace guard arrived with the jewel encrusted tiara she would wear for the ceremony - sapphires and topaz and diamonds arranged in wave like formations, designed to emulate the nearby ocean. It was beautiful, but she could take no pleasure in it.

Much like the flotsam and jetsam that found itself driven by the ocean currents, so Emma found herself carried along on a wave hoplessness to the ceremony.

///

“Where have you been? We were worried-“

“Sorry brother,” Killian panted as he straightened his shirt, “I had business to attend to.”

“What business would almost have you miss this?” Liam asked, fixing his brother in a firm gaze, as if daring him to reply.

“Nothing,” he lied, shaking his head, “Nothing of consequence.”

He helped his brother into his uniform as the hour of the ceremony encroached upon them.

_The truth? The truth was he had hoped by leaving he would forget, somehow, someway… He’d rode away from the castle, seeking solace in rum and anonymous taverns where he could drown his sorrows…_

But he had to return. 

Though every gallop of his horse, every stride of his boots killed him a little more, he would be there for his brother.

It was the honourable thing to do.

///

The organ music swelled, the congregation rose. Killian stood beside his brother, both resplendent in formal dress with polished boots and gleaming sabres. 

His collar itched. He was hot- unbearably so, even though it was a cool autumn day. He resisted the urge to tap his foot.

///

Her father took her hand and placed it on his arm.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered as they made their way to the foot of the aisle.

She smiled thinly, her stomach twisted in a knot.

///

His breath caught when he saw her. God, she was a vision. A precious flower; pink petals topped with tumbling blonde curls.

His heart ached.

/// 

Her eyes should be on her husband to be. But traitorously they flickered behind him, to the younger brother who stood aside him.

Her body began to tremble and she willed her feet to continue walking.

///

There were words spoken, but he would not be able to tell you even half a dozen of what they were. Her closeness made a buzzing sound appear in his ears. 

He tried not to look at her.

And failed.

///

This was wrong. _Wrong, wrong, wrong._

Her heart screamed.

“Stop!” she gasped, the bishop pausing mid sentence, the congregation turning to look at her.

“Emma?” her mother asked from the front row, “What’s wrong?”

Trying to calm her breathing, she clenched her fingers tightly.

“Mother-“ she whispered, “I’m in love with officer Jones-“

“Oh my sweetheart,” her mother smiled, standing as she spoke, “That’s wonderful-“

Emma shook her head.

“No, you don’t understand-“ She chanced at glance at Killian, his face was pale, his mouth agape, “Killian Jones is the one I love.”

And with that, the chapel fell into silence.

///

Was this real, he thought. She loved him?

He felt a strong hand grasp his arm. It was Liam’s.

“Brother,” he said. “I must ask you something.”

“Yes,” Killian replied in a daze.

“You love her, yes?”

He met his brother’s eyes.

It was time to stop lying.

“Aye,” he began, his breath catching as Emma turned back to look at him, “I am in love with Emma.”

“I knew it-“ his brother replied, shaking his head.

“You knew?”

Liam nodded, “I had a strong suspicion.”

Behind them all, the bishop cleared his throat. “Am I to continue?”

///

King David was beside them a moment later.

“Emma, sweetheart is this true?”

A single tear slid down her cheek as the dam of emotion she had spent so long building finally began to crack.

“Yes father.”

“So why didn’t you say something…”

Wringing her hands, she shrugged. “I didn’t think he felt the same… I thought my duty mattered more than my heart…” The words tripped of her tongue between heavy breaths. She was well aware of the spectacle she was giving their guests.

“And do you, officer Jones, share my daughters feelings?”

Killian stepped forward and Emma’s heart leapt once more.

Oh how she loved him.

“I do your highness. Most ardently.”

The king looked from man to woman.

“Captain Jones…”

Liam held up his hand. “I am not a man to stand in the way of true love. My duty will always come first, of course, but i suspect that you shall not be ordering me to marry your daughter today.”

“No, I will not. but perhaps a wedding may still take place-“

He stepped forward taking one of Killian’s hands and one of Emma’s.

“You are my daring daughter, Emma, my only child. Say the word and I shall send everyone home. But if you wish it, if you consent, I agree to your marriage to this fine and noble man. On one condition?”

“And what is that?” she asked.

“That you be happy.”

Countless tears fell as she hugged her father tight.

“I will be, father.”

///

After a brief recess, the ceremony resumed, the participants rearranged in position, the guests more than a little confused.

There were tears and smiles, loving glances and the kiss. Well, it was a kiss for all the ages - where time stopped and eternity stretched out before them (at least for the newlyweds).

It wasn’t till late that night that they had chance to be alone. A bottle of champagne accompanied them to the balcony of her chamber, the party still continuing in the streets of the town below.

“My love,” she sighed, stroking his face, “My love, my love-“

“I shall never tire of hearing you say that, _my_ love.” 

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. 

“We are fools, are we not?”

“Aye,” he nodded, kissing her cheek.

He would also never tired of kissing her.

“Do you think Liam is… angry?” she asked hesitantly.

Killian laughed lightly, pulling her into his lap. “Would you like to know a secret?”

“I do love an intrigue,” she giggled in reply.

“It seems my brother is almost as good at keeping secrets as I am. He is in love himself - with none other than Queen Elsa of Arendelle-“

“Really?” she scoffed, “And he was to marry me?-“

“You know Liam would do anything your father asked of him,” he pulled her closer, “And he too believed that his love was unrequited, until this evening.”

“I saw them dancing- wait, she feels the same?”

Killian nodded.

“How wonderful!” Emma smiled, before going on, “And what other secrets do you speak of? Best not start a marriage with deceit,” she teased, dropping a kiss on the tip of his nose.

Killian blushed a little, “Well, perhaps you should know it was I who saved you from the ocean that night.”

“You?”

“Yes. I’m sorry I lied-“

Emma wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly, “Thank you. My hero.”

They remained that way for a few moments. Killian wished they could stay in that embrace for eternity. Even then, that would not be long enough.

“Well, this is a glorious day!” she cried, pulling him into another deep, toe-curling kiss. “Perhaps happiness and honour are not such distant cousins as we would have believed.”

“Aye your highness-“ she dug her elbow in his ribs and he moaned in mock pain, “ _My_ highness.”

“Well Lieutenant, _my_ Lieutenant, my dear husband, would you do me the honour of another kiss?”

Killian beamed down at his wife, her eyes reflecting the love and affection he knew shone from his own.

“Of course my love, anything for you.”

And when his lips met hers, she swore she was drowning once again. But this time, in love.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, a review would be really appreciated!!


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